The Divine Helper

So riddled and burdened I fall to my knees

In fear and pain, through tears I fervently offer my pleas

When I can do naught but sit and shudder

The Spirit intercedes with words I cannot utter

Moved to my core, yet no words can I speak

At such moments, the Spirit ministers to the meek

My soul soon finds rest in His hiding place

Through no power of mine, but by His grace

When we expect some spectacular sign from on high

Instead, He speaks with a still, small voice to draw us nigh

How blessed are we, who have received Him

In our weakness, He gives us strength and vim

Sin still seeks to pull us away, but it cannot hope to contend

For the Light of men defeated sin and death, hastening their end

In the Holy Spirit, we receive our inheritance

Only through Him does one give Jesus reverence

When doubt rears its head, He casts it down

And reminds me I received a righteous crown

Through no mighty or heroic works of mine

The crown I wear, was given me by one Divine

Beauty, a letter of Praise

Beauty, deserving of praise and high esteem, instead, beaten and downtrodden. Often debased, thy fathomless depths hidden by the pathetic, hollow façade we have given thee. What once moved us at our core, no longer goes beyond what we see.

We long for thee so much more, but fear that to touch Beauty, will shatter her, being so fragile; or that to touch Beauty will shatter the illusions with which we have supplanted her.

We know that to touch Beauty will shatter our illusions no matter where our heart lies, yet we forget that Beauty, even broken, will arise once more, in even greater splendor. For Beauty, fragile though she is, possesses an eternal resilience that gives her strength beyond our comprehension. Attracted by her fragility, and unaware of all but a hint of her resiliency when we see her, she retains a mysterious air about her, which only heightens our attraction to her.

We cannot and will not know Beauty in her fullness unless, and until we know the Lord in full, for all Beauty comes from the Lord; He is Love, and if the depths of Beauty are found fathomless, how much deeper does Love run true. 

Sovereign

A cross for a banner and thorns for a crown

Nails as His scepters and blood upon His brow

His body beaten and bloodied, clothes rent and torn

Through the streets, on His shoulders our burdens borne

All the while they mocked and jeered Him

He could do naught but love and pity them

With His final breath, He forgave their sin

As His Spirit withdrew into Heaven

Followers embalmed and buried Him in a tomb

Satan thought he won, but it meant his doom

For three days later, the stone rolled away

And out stepped the Life, the Truth, the Way

He looked a servant when He came, but left Sovereign

To give up all we have for Him is a small loss for eternal gain

For all we could ever gain here, nothing can go with us

Will we choose to serve our own desires, or to serve Jesus?

Choosing the one leaves us empty and our spirit condemned

Choosing Christ will find us filled, and our spirits redeemed

Broken

Blessed are the brokenhearted who seek God,

His compassion washes over their sorrow

Healing their grieving hearts and soothing their souls

Whoever feels shame rather than sorrow is at risk

They only prepare themselves once more for the fall

For shame draws upon itself, but grief draws us to God

Indeed, both pride and sorrow can break the heart, but

Only grief can break the whole, pride does not know how

One part concerned only with itself, cannot break the whole

Shame only seeks to restore one’s own supposed glory

Sorrow longs for the healing only God can bestow

Shame and sorrow's subtle differences are soon manifest

Only a short time passes before the proud fall again,

While true grief heals but slowly; it cannot run, only walk

To walk offers contemplation; to run leaves no time to reflect

God will restore those who walk with Him in their mourning

They give Him their time and request restoration from Him

That they may press onward with greater faith, hope, and vigor

He never abandons His children, even the wayward

God hears the wayward, who cry out with an open heart,

Broken and grieved by the agony God suffered for their sins

The rest are too busy in the race onto their next great feat

They will achieve what they may, only to see it waste away

They demand God let them alone, to let them do as they wish

Many do not realize their grave mistake until too late,

Because God does indeed grant their requests

He leaves them alone, and their own passions destroy them

Whilst the ignorant race toward restlessness and ruin

The mourners find sustenance and rest for their soul in His arms

Those too weak to continue on their own He will carry

He knows their pain, and more, having drank the bitter cup

He transformed the bitter cup into a wellspring of life

That all who drink from His cup may walk from death into life

His immeasurable love fills, heals, and restores all it touches

Whoever seeks Him will find Him, and will find love, for He is love